Talk:The random post-y page/@comment-99.244.161.132-20120527011006
Cowardly Montblanc: The taste of sugar fills my mouth. The cake he set before me. "Do you like it?" he asks, hopefully. "It's my specialty." I nod, cheeks full of the delicious pastry. "Um-hmm! Ju made dis? Ish sho good!" is my garbled reply. He grins, adjusting his scholarly, black framed, square spectacles. "Yeah. It's no big deal or anything. I call it a Montblanc." I gulp, so as to speak normally again. "It's such a beautiful creation! So sweet, but with just a hint of bitterness." I comment. He laughs. "In that case, I should've called it a Gami, after you." "Hey!" I exclaim. "I'm not bitter!" "And right now you're not being very sweet." he says, jokingly. I bat playfully at his shoulder. "Oh, you!" I try to sound serious, but it's a bit hard when you have cake in your mouth. He can hear me chewing. "I see you like it." he notes. "Do you want me to make you another?" "Yes please!" is my excited reply, muffled by my sugar-coated lips on his. I'm so close I can smell him. The familiar and soothing smell of violets and lilac. The smell of love. "I love you." he says voicing my thoughts. I cling tighter to him, like a koala to it's precious tree. "I love you more." "I love you most, and always will." That was the beginning of something beautiful. I loved him, he loved me. We were inseperable. And everyday, he brought me a new cake for lunch, each more delicious than the last. He loved me enough to bake for me. The cycle continued. Years pasted. Seventh grade, Eighth grade, Nineth, Tenth... Everyday the same as our first. Everyday, us together, eating his Montblancs. Everyday, us kissing. Everyday, him replying "I love you most." But like all things, it came to an end eventually. Eventually, it felt boring. It was simply a rut we couldn't escape, me and him. It didn't feel like love. It was simply instincts, what we were made to do. And one day, I got up the nerve to ask him. I pushed away my half finished cake. I couldn't take it anymore. It tasted like sawdust to me. He looked up from his book. "Is everything alright, Gami?" I look at the floor, cheeks reddening. "Y-- I mean, no. I just wanted to ask...about love. I've thought a lot about it recently." He cocks his head, confused. "Love? What about love? You already know I love you." "Am I being loved? I've been wondering. I know you care for me with all your heart, but..." I trail off. He takes this opportunity to cut in. "Gami, what more can I give you?" "Anything!" I blurt out. "You may say you love me, but it feels so empty! Is that really love?!" My voice takes on an angry, hysterical edge. He backs away. "Gami, be reasonable." I close my eyes, regaining my composure. "Okay. I'm sorry I shouted, Hayo-kun. It was wrong of me. I just want to talk. Lately I feel that our realationship is going no where. I want to know from you, Hayo-kun, do you really love me?" He's taken aback for a second, then answers. "Yes. I'm sorry too. I feel the exact same way. Our realationship has reached a dead end. It's not love anymore, it's routine." he says, mirroring the very words in my mind. "Are you some sort of mind reader?" He chuckles, but without humour. "Could be." He shrugs. I can sense tension in the air. This isn't something he wants to talk about. There's a secret, slowly becoming exposed to me. "Hayato, what's wrong?" I ask, saying his full name to show my seriousness. He follows my example, trying to be formal. "Kagami." he begins, keeping his voice level. "I have to tell you I'm sorry. I've lied. I lied when I told you, that first day we began dating,that I love'd you most and always would. I'd lied." I take a step back, only realizing to late that I was on a chair. I fall to the ground, writhing in a messy slush of milk and spaghetti. The montblanc falls in after a minute or so. He continues, pretending not to notice. "Not any more. I don't love you most anymore. I lied to you." I kick my foot in asnother pathetic attempt to get away from the truth, to escape this horrible reality. I squeeze my eyes shut. This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening. "This is exactly what you must think it is." he says, devoid of all emotion. But through my own, I can see tears running down his blank face. "I'm in love with another girl." Something snaps, somewhere in the depths of my subconsious. Something that was probably important. Something connected to my sanity. I rise up from my watery lunch, my face growing red with anger. My tears are still of sadness, but I can feel the blind rage boiling inside of me. I clench my fist. "You son of a...Why the hell did you do this? How long have you been dating, you friggin' two-timer?! I thought I meant something to you!" He tries to say something. By his lips, I can read the words "sorry" and "montblanc". But I don't stop to listen to the context. "I hate you, Hayato! You baka!" "Kagami--" "I wish you'd go die!" Then its silent for a minute. He's staring at me. I'm sobbing into my hands, repeating it over and over again. "Go die, go die, go die...It'd be better if you just died..." ---------------------------------------------------- The newspaper floats lightly to the floor, almost casually, mockingly. Normally. As if nothing bad had happened. I'm crying again, just as I had the day I told him to die. I didn't know what power my words had. I didn't that Fate would take me seriously. I had only bothered to read the title of the discarded article before I threw it to the ground. There was his name, and his picture, smiling. As if there was a reason to smile. Under his name was a date. December 19th of 1994 to yesterday, May 25th of 2012. 2012, the year the world was supposed to end. The year my world really did end. I stab at the cake on my plate. The same cake he made me the day I met him. My mom told me it was the last thing he made. That only made me feel worse. Hayato had died in a car accident the other day. Just like I wanted. But now, I felt guilty, like it was my fault. Stupid fate, messing with my head. Making me think I was responsible for his death. I'm so stupid. I continue stabbing my plate. The cake falls off. I could care less. My mom looks over from the kitchen. "Kagami, why are you damging the plates?" I stare, unseeingly, down at my plate. Chips of the material a missing, clattering to the floor. "Oops." I say, apologetically. Right now, the state of the plates wasn't my worry. He was dead. Hayato was dead. My life had no meaning now. There was a crash, and the remains of my dish broke. One shard pierced my shoulder. I screamed in pain. Probably served me right. I was so selfish, wishing he would die because he didn't love me. And he had. He was dead. I sob. I should've told him that I was just angry. But I was afraid that he'd get mad too. I was such a coward. A sweet, yet bitter coward, like he had told me that first day we dated. A cowardly montblanc. "I'm a cowardly montblanc." I say aloud. "Sweetie, what was that?" mom asks, running into the room. She gasps. "Kagami, oh my god, you're covered in blood!" she exclaimed. I shrug, my shoulder slightly limp. "I broke a plate." "Let me get you some gause. Seriously, girl..." she says, walking up the stairs to the bathroom cabinet to get my bandages. I sigh. And I then more tears spill out. "I have myself to thank. It's all because I'm a cowardly montblanc."